Air Kickass
by alikat522
Summary: The art of the bar fight is a delicate and subtle one, as the men of MJN know.


(A/N: This is a slight follow-up to my previous fic, "Fight or Flight", but it can most certainly be read on its own.)

"Tell me, is there something you all find enjoyable about being thrashed by athletes? Is it secretly one of life's little pleasures? Or is it perhaps that you can't keep your respective mouths shut in bars?"

"Mum, could you please stop shouting, your voice is making the room all spin-y again."

"I will shout at my beaten and drunken idiot crew as much as I like, for the clear reasons that you have been beaten, you are drunk, and you are all, without a bit of doubt, idiots."

"Need I remind you that I am not drunk, Carolyn?"

"No, because if you were drunk, you could have just slept it off. Instead I had to have both my pilots checked for concussions!"

"By the by, we're supposed to keep checking on Martin throughout the night."

"I'm fine, I don't know what all the fuss is about."

"Martin, tell me, are you on your bed or on the floor?"

"…Bed?"

"Nope."

"Ah…when did I fall off?"

"It was a kind of slow motion melting maneuver. Graceful, in a sloppy sort of way."

"Well, since you are so quick to boast your sobriety, then you are on idiot-watch duty tonight. The three of you get this room, the one next door is all mine, and if I hear another peep out of you before I see you, bright and early, tomorrow morning, heads. Will. Roll. Understood?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Yes, Carolyn."

"…"

"Martin, is that understood?"

"Didn't I already say yes?"

"No, you drooled into the carpet."

"Ah. Yes, I understand."

[Door closes.]

"Well, let's get some water into you two, and then get some sleep before we have to fly back. Or should I say, before_ I_ have to fly back."

"I'm the Captain."

"You can barely stand."

"Still the Captain."

"And it was very gallant indeed how you fought that one man to get your hat back. You saved almost all of the gold trim."

"Yeah, that was brilliant, Skip! His eyes went all buggy when you grabbed that chair."

"The proud Captain, standing on a pub table, chair in hand, beating the throngs back like a lion tamer. It's the sort of thing they sing ballads about."

"…Please, no one sing. Not you, Douglas, and certainly not Arthur."

"No, I agree, Skip. My brain feels kind of squishy, but in a bump-bump-bump sort of way."

"You have such a way with words, and you were surprised when the paramedics thought you had a head injury?"

"Well, they kept asking really hard stuff, like who the prime minister was and what day it was, and I didn't know if we had gone over that day time line thing."

"Arthur, we flew from Fitton to Paris."

"Yeah, and that line could be anywhere!"

"Though I will say, Arthur, who knew your skills as a pugilist were so impressive? More than one of them actually backed away from you, afraid of the flailing windmill arms."

"The important part is to not care if you get hit!"

"A lesson Martin seems to have taken to heart…Martin? Martin, keep your eyes open."

"I'm awake! Awake, I am, I'm not closing my eyes at all!"

"…you can still blink."

"Oh, yes, right."

"Come on, let's get you back on the bed, up you go."

"But you were rather impressive too, Douglas. I never would have thought of going for the pool cues."

"Because you are an amateur in the sacred art of the bar fight. Pool cues are among the first things to put in your arsenal. Many people go for bottles, but that escalates too quickly, and so much good booze is lost. Your work with the chair was nice, but a little too unwieldy in close quarters. And standing on a table just means that you will inevitably be pushed off of a table, as you found out."

"Right. I take it you picked that up in your Air England days?"

"No, heavens no, I learned all that back in medical school. Fighting alongside future doctors is wonderful; you all patch each other up afterwards."

"Brilliant."

"Alright, if you are picking up Arthur's speech patterns, then it is definitely time for sleep. No, no, lay on your stomachs, both of you, I am not giving mouth-to-mouth around vomit at one in the morning. As charming as the mental image is."

"But, Douglas, where are you going to sleep?"

"Arthur, I have slept on more than enough floors in my time, I think I can manage. You know that Carolyn is going to be absolutely brutal in the morning, so you best get to sleep while you still have the chance. Good night, you two."

"Night, Douglas! Night, Skipper!"

"Good night, Arthur. And good night, Douglas."

"Don't let the hangovers and mild head trauma bite."


End file.
